


Brother, Let Me Be Your Shelter

by Aurora Cee (SC182)



Series: Enantiomers [3]
Category: Fast Five (2011), Fast and the Furious Series, Takers (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Badass, Canon Character of Color, F/M, M/M, POV Second Person, Unresolved Sexual Tension, vague pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC182/pseuds/Aurora%20Cee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It is not often that you admit that you’d made a mistake, but in looking at O’Conner and his brother—John—you actively admit that you fell short of the mark.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother, Let Me Be Your Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 1:Told from Giselle's POV. Because she is awesome.  
> A/N 2: General spoilers and allusions to the events in Takers and possibly Fast 6.  
> A/N 3: Title from NEEDTOBREATHE feat. Gavin DeGraw "Brother".
> 
> Verse Summary: From Chemistry, enantiomers are one of two stereoisomers that are mirror images of each other that are non-superposable (not identical)(Wikipedia).
> 
> AKA the one where Brian has a secret brother he never told anyone about.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters herein.

It was not often that you admit that you’d made a mistake, but in looking at O’Conner and his brother—John—you actively admitted that you fell short of the mark.

When Toretto called with the offer to join him and O’Conner in taking down a big score in Brazil, you didn’t hesitate to accept, as you count Dom as one of the few men you’ve ever met that could be trusted at face value. Also, you didn’t hesitate to accept because you were bored out of your mind without a cause to fight for and an objective to complete.

Grandfather said you were like your grandmother: born to fight as long as breath was in your body. From a girl, you grew tall like the mustard plants that cradled the Jordan River within their willowy bosom and swayed only in the direction of your choosing with resistance given to any who would test you otherwise. You have been much tested in your life and embrace any opportunity for a challenge.

So, your answer was yes.

The man had won you with his charm—yes, and his integrity—absolutely, when he spoke to you, instead of _at_ you, and looked you in the eye as he did. Not once did he do the slow eye-roll where he tried to estimate your height or the subtle seethe at realizing that you were taller than him. Nor did his eyes stray from your face to your tits even when you really wanted him to.

So as you take a slow, assessing scan of the warehouse, taking in the various factions and interactions, you considered the pair of identical blond men who stood as the new nucleus and concluded that you should have looked around Dom to see who was really standing with him.

Han idled at your side, obviously just as interested as everyone else in the soap operatic swerve in events, but lingering with you just because. It was early still after a night of collecting cars and passing through the streets quilted in neon pockets of city lights and halogens that led to schools of like-minded people and cars that hummed in a finely tuned symphony. A night built on the surge of adrenaline and the invulnerability of youth.

But back to the O’Conners: you could admit a certain level of prejudice that had forced you look at him shallowly. Much in the way that you were often underestimated, you naturally gave the bordering on too pretty California blond American the same level of polite disregard that you saw miles before Braga across Tel Aviv, Hong Kong, Sydney, Johannesburg, Carcass, and Los Angeles. Despite his looks, everything about O’Conner read as _don’t mind me_ , _just a face in the backgroun_ d, and _inconspicuously inconspicuous_.

Your brand of research was less trawling and more likened to the graceful dance of a spider plucking the silken strings of its web: swift and delicate without compromising forward progress. Because you were always prepared, the paper trail of connections between Dominic, Mia, Vince, and cousins, Tego and Rico were easily seen. Then the search doubled back to O’Conner who was side by side with Dominic, Roman, and Tej. The only pieces that were unknown to you were Mr. Lue, who was cute in name and face, and O’Conner’s prodigal brother, John.

To hide one of such close relation involved both skill and talent. Two other qualities of O’Conner or the O’Conners that you had greatly underestimated.

When you read up on O’Conner, the man seemed to be a case study in continuous contradictions—cop then fugitive, fugitive to Fed, Fed turned internationally wanted thief-in-the-making. That should have been enough to hold your interest. Since childhood in Tel Aviv, you’d craved excitement and devoured every mystery set before you. Grandfather said you were a smart girl, smart enough to see the world for what it was and not as you hoped it would be. Yet, here you’d failed to see what lied before you.

Now it was only you and Han remaining in the workshop, having been abandoned by the rest for the opportunity to break and socialize. Roman seemed especially happy to be vacillating between Brian and John. Though the roll of your gut that assured you of which shots to take and which to drop pulled at the sight of Roman and John talking.

Another mystery indeed.

You smiled as small clues like sweet crumbs fell around the pair, shifting into place while thickening the mysterious meal that Brian and his brother had presented.

“What’s that smile for?” Han asked, leaning into the corner of your shoulder to speak softly, almost conspiratorially.

“Nothing.” A fuller smile emerged in response. No, you wanted to watch more and deconstruct the situation for yourself before you shared the obscurely obvious. “Just taking in the sights. Or should I say, getting a better idea of just who’ve I’ve decided to fall in with.”

Han flicked his eyes back to the group for a quick spot check. “And what’re you thinking so far? Think we can trust the twin from the storefront window or the twin in the t-shirt?” Despite his calm demeanor, Han’s nerves were slightly rattled. Just another quality that you had missed when interacting with attractive men. His weariness of you in itself was attractive.

Knowing that Han was admittedly confused and concerned by your earlier offhanded declaration of _yes_ meant that he was still attentive to you even when not actively grasping your curiosity to ascertain whether the pair in question were truly identical in form and function. The thought was of genuine scientific interest, you'd defiantly contend.

“I don’t know how well you know Brian but Dom knows him well and trusts him and we all trust Dom--”

With that, they were all caught in a long loop of circular logic. “So we should have no doubts about trusting Brian, because Dom trusts him.”

You nod just once. “His brother---or John is unknown to us, except Roman, and his appearance has surprised everyone, especially his brother. Do I trust him? No, why should I?” But you did desire to see his weapon’s collection. Yes, indeed. “There is no cause to give this stranger with a familiar face my trust and possibly my life, so no. I think he’s dangerous, because every person in their warehouse is dangerous. I’d be a fool to expect him to be anything else.”

You wonder if Han was offended that you summarily labeled him as being dangerous like the majority of their party. “You don’t know me. Where’s your question of trusting me?” Another honest question, completely unburdened by Han’s justifiable reservations. You hoped he took your description for flattery.

“You? Yes, I don’t know you but you and I share certain common denominators…”

Han gazed across the room. “Like Dom?”

“Cars actually…” you paused, enjoying watching the subtle play of mental gymnastics as he tried to make accurate leaps in logic and keep pace with your thoughts, “--and Dominic and great hair,” you finally admitted. You really liked the way that he was put together and wondered how his hair would feel between your fingers.

“Got it. Remind me to get you as a reference the next time I’m going to break international laws. You’re amazingly direct.”

“Thank you, I will and I am.”

You missed this spirit of camaraderie that had been long distant since your days in the army. Certainly nights spent in the back rooms of smoky strobe-lit clubs with Braga and Fenix didn’t contribute much to the sense of family that you had long missed.

Whether you succeeded or failed in taking Reyes’s millions, you now had acquired new connections, possibly the only family that could understand you; which forced you to circle back to the mystery at hand: why would Brian hide the one person who could implicitly understand him and could never deny being his family.

You watched the subtle shift in movement as the group began to splinter.

You heard the crumpling crack of a foil snack bag and implicitly held your palm out for whatever Han had decided to snack on. He shook out a handful of chips, only stopping when the cup of your palm was full. The slight rise of his eyebrows asking if you wanted more. What was inside your hand was enough. You replied with a small shake.

“Are you going to have your turn at the meet and greet?” You asked him. The chips were flavored with chili and lime, two perfectly paired spices that made you crave a cold beer to enhance the flavor. The way you caught Han licking his lips and the flavored dust from his fingers confirmed that he would enjoy the same.

“A little later but--” he looked down at his rapidly diminishing bag of chips, “I think I will take Brian’s brother up on his hospitality.”

You brushed his arm, indicating to him that you would get the beer and a better grasp of the situation which led to you walking towards the party. You passed the cluster of Tej, Tego, and Rico who were communicating in a complex rotation of English, Spanish, and universal sign language. You waved at them but left them to their intricate conversation, not desiring to engage them further.

Dom and Vince stood together like broad shouldered pillars, ready to shield Mia from any hint of harsh circumstance; whether the harsh circumstance was Brian or the twin, you’re not sure, but you could confirm from the flash of Mia’s charismatic smile that she would drive headlong into the O’Conner storm if given the opportunity. Clever woman.

The twins bowed towards her with identical expressions of fondness. “It’s great to meet another member of Brian’s family. It would’ve been nice if our meeting was under better circumstances, but having the family together is all that matters, right?” Said Mia as she charmed both twins.

“Absolutely,” John answered. So meticulously dressed, he looked like the prince that the Toretto princess deserved. “Me and Brian share the same fault—neither of us is good at sharing. And if I were him, I would be careful about sharing friends as beautiful as you.”

Vince made a low sound in his throat, much like the growl of a guard dog on duty. You honed in on the residual flame of puppy love as soon as it caught your eye. Dom’s former second might have found a new life in Rio, according to his records, but some feelings were unshakeable, such as loving a beautiful woman who was resolute in loving him in her way but not his.

“John,” Brian warned in one frosty bite. “—play nice or don’t talk at all.” Then he spared a look at Dom that was so contrite and imploring Dom to understand. Dom’s silent reply was a mixture of empathy laden— _family, what can you do about ‘em_ —and the standard big brother warning of – _keep a tighter leash on your brother_ _or I will_.

Mia wasn’t as starry-eyed as any of the men around her assumed she’d be, even when presented with the Prince Charming appeal of Brian’s brother. “He’s alright, Brian. In fact, he and I should talk so I can figure out where we can put him in.” She continued to think prospectively while the men were collectively rooted in the present. This was a woman that the men forgot had dual degrees in biomechanical engineering and computer science. This woman was one year out of medical school and had been ensnared in the deep clutches of completing a medical residency and doctoral program before they came crashing into her life. So they might have the market on tough, but she beat the room in terms of smarts, and smarts, you learned, always trumped all.

Men, you supposed, and their naivete.

John accepted her offer politely. “Gladly, since I crashed your party, it’s only fair that you put me to work. You could say I’m the more useful twin.” He smirked and cut a challenging look at Brian. “And the faster twin.”

“At running his mouth,” Brian countered, elbowing his brother without an ounce of delicacy in the side and promising worse if he continued to speak.

John laughed in the face of his brother’s souring mood despite the hardening look Dom was giving him. He proved your assessment of him right again: he was dangerous and brazen for flirting with Dom’s sister deliberately while his brother stood beside him. Stature aside you knew he could handle himself. Would probably present a good challenge for Dom if forced to engage in solitary combat. Yet you found yourself willing to pay to watch a match between John and Brian since there was no clear advantage other than John’s weight and the potential for extreme damage as family always knew where to strike hardest and deepest.

Mia smiled beatifically at the twins. “We’ll talk later,” she assured, non-specifically, “but now I think I’ll help Vince pack up something for Rosa and Nico.” The clever doctor that she was found a way to diffuse the clot of tension and scattered the remnants of their group across the space of the warehouse with her flawless exit.

Then Roman stalked over to reel John away, leaving Dom and Brian within a vacant bubble of space until they too began to migrate towards the cars.

You could almost feel a touch of pity for O’Conner. The man faced the fundamental problem of supply and demand, with himself being in limited supply to the vague definitions of Dominic and Mia’s demand. Certainly, you had wondered after Dom delivered his specific recitation of the finer characteristic points of his ideal partner whether he was accurately describing the woman he’d lost or the partner he’d regained. You were not entirely sure whether he knew what he meant either. However as you furtively spy Han eating and watching you in turn, you thought that you were grateful that you were not his ideal.

In a perfect world, a threesome would satisfy all parties in the equation, but since two possible outcomes involved some version of incest by proxy, you conjectured that Brian would be forced to make a choice and, as Americans said, lose for winning. Maybe you did pity him, because the heart could screw you over more than a bullet ever would.

They did make a pretty picture; any of the permutations presented: Dom and Brian, Brian and Mia, John and Mia, Roman and John. Several millions of dollars would provide sufficient time and space to experiment with which worked best.

Dominic and Brian standing together without speaking made you think of chemistry. Think of the fundamental attractive volatility between nitrogen and glycerin and the brilliant consequences of such a union. Undoubtedly, the work done together by Dominic and Brian would be beautiful in its chaos.

Pretty men just like fast bikes always got your attention, but substance always made you want to ride. That was why you passed over O’Conner; pretty, yes but lacking in superficial grit to hold your attention. Grit was a substance that was far too under-appreciated. Grit increased friction, allowing for a better hold during turbulence and turbulence was exciting when given the right medium. Dominic was a man of grit; an anchor for each of the bodies in the room to hold on to should the waves of this life become turbulent.

But you saw as Brian talked to Dom that Dom leaned into him, moved into Brian’s space because Brian was his counterbalance hidden beneath a seemingly calm and pretty surface. _He_ was Dominic’s anchor.

Brother O’Conner was not nearly as calm or peaceful. He leaned towards Roman, still grinning around softly spoken words and you read each one. “It’s been a long time, Rome. It doesn’t feel like last time but I’m here and you’re here, so we’ve gotta catch up.”

Rome bobbed his head, completely approving the idea. “Yeah, yeah, lets…um, do that.” The way he stared at John reminded you of the cobra handlers in India who stared death in the face without fear. Roman might have loved this man as much as he did Brian but he didn’t fear Brian at all compared to this man. How much of that fear was related to physical versus emotional pain, you wouldn’t presume to guess.

John made Roman nervous. Why you supposed had something to do with the dusty roots that grew men like Brian, John, and Roman Pearce from the tiny corners of desert California. There was a history of poverty written into the bones of Brian and Roman, a fact that was no longer shared by John, who had expertly excised that flaw in his marrow like rot from a wound.

“Learned somethings that I wanna show you. Like reasons to drop those peashooters that you like to pack.” You envy his gift of speaking directly and seductively without trying; a skill that was born ninety percent of necessity and ten percent naturally. “You look good now that you’re free and far away from lockdown.” John cast a glare at his brother’s back which Dom caught and returned with hard eyes. “You know I woulda had your back no matter what.” There was a worn road of resentment in his tone. “If I coulda gotten you out, I woulda. I woulda done it if you hadn’t told me not to.”

The tension in Rome’s shoulders unspooled and he sagged upon exhalation, going uncharacteristically still for the seemingly restless man who still prowled like a predator in a cage. “Yeah, I know. Even if I was a dick, I’m glad you visited me and dropped change in my commissary. Prison can change a dude in many ways, but it didn’t do shit for my stomach.”

John took a relaxed stance against Mercedes, slipping into a keen picture of comfortable wealth as he crossed his ankles and slid his hands in his pockets. “I had to. Couldn’t let you starve, bro. I grew up with you, so I know just how much you can eat. Cuz you’re always _hongry._ Your stomach’s like a black hole or somethin’.”

“Hey!” Rome snapped playfully, “Don’t think you’re not too big for me to whoop that ass. I can and I will, Mr. Macy’s-Polo-Ralph-Lauren-Hilfiger.”

John gestured to his apparel with a casual wave. “First, it’s Gucci,” he said pointing at his feet, “and Hugo Boss, everything else.”

Getting closer for a deeper inspection was definitely on your to-do list. Brother John did not advertise his customized accessories to accompany his tailored fashion but they were there if one was looking carefully enough. You liked big guns and people that knew how to wield big guns. Brother John was indeed packing. The guns in his pants were big, classic with long barrels, and comfortably heavy when handled correctly.

Rome made note of John’s excellent taste and instead offered his own compliments. “Shit, playa. You said you’d have money one day, now look at you, Mr. Swagged-out, Designer-for-Days. After we do this Brazil thing, I’m gonna be upper class, too. So if you’re nice maybe, I’ll hire you to help me get my sophisticated style on.”

“That I can assure you is something I can do.”

“Thanks, John.” Roman eased into the slot beside John against the Mercedes and proceeded to mimic his body language. Even with his head tucked low, you could still understand what he was saying to John as he stooped low to dive into reluctant candidness. “It’s good to have you here, John. I’m not gonna to ask how you found us, because I never got _it_ before and there’s too much shit goin’ on now to get it, but just don’t start shit with Brian. Okay? Please. Help if you want but don’t mess this up for him--” _or me_ , “He’s found something here, alright. That thing we were lookin’ for when we were kids bouncing from trailer to trailer when it was just us and our moms and Uncle Jack when we were lucky. Don’t ruin it.”

You faded out of John’s peripheral vision, so that he didn’t spy you listening; people often revealed the world if under the illusion of privacy. Instead he watched his brother and Dom. In his fickle blue eyes, a series of flickering emotions that warred between sadness and envy at the sight of their fluid course of interaction and the mountain of exclusive affection reserved only for each other.

When John resumed speaking, he softly explained, “I had something like this,” again, there was a space for dropped words to be ad-libbed, “so, I’m not—will not mess this up for him. Brian may be--”

“Don’t.” Roman interjected, still ready to defend his best friend.

John exhaled. “He’s my brother and I’ll always have his back. Usually from far away. But I got it.”

“Good, that’s all I needed to hear.” The playfulness returned as he pretended to rabbit-punch John’s bicep. “Feels better than old times. When we get you in on this, J, this plan will blow your mind. We’re on that Mission Impossible level now.”

John turned to Roman with a wide grin then stealthily pinched Roman’s cheeks like patronizing parent. “Aw, that’s so cute, man. I’m glad you’re excited, but trust me, when I tell you about some of the shit that I’ve gotten up to…Bro, you’ll want me to tutor you in that, too.”

Roman shook him off. “Such a hater, dude. Just… uh.” He said in exaggerated disgust. “Comin’ in here tryin’ to crush my dreams. Not cool.”

“I’m not dream-crushin’. I’ve been around the world, done some shit you wouldn’t believe, and if you give me a chance, I can show you everything I’ve learned.” Which was as a blunt a come-on as you’d ever heard.

Now you slipped completely away from their sphere of conversation, as what would follow was definitely not for your ears.

You assumed that Brian and Dominic had circled through an obstacle course of conversational bullshit since you managed to hear:

“You and me gotta talk.” Dom said to Brian as they stood between the sleeping cars, close enough to touch.

Brian owned his mistake with just a look. “I know. It’s just that he and I…we’ve…” Brian stopped and shook his head and mentally reconstructed his explanation for his and his brother’s behavior. An impossible task if you’d ever seen one. Brian and John were literally duplicates of each other, so to explain facets of who they were to each other was like connecting images across a series of reflecting mirrors—too far to reach each point and too close to be seen accurately.

“—it’s hard to explain,” he finished. “We just do things our own way. Always have. I fucked up so that’s why he’s here on our doorstep.”

Dom pressed him. “Yeah, you made mistakes. Not mentioning him is a big one. Him showing up here is something else altogether. Care to explain how that happened?”

“I don’t know how to explain it—explain us. We’re just twins. Somehow we make it work best when we do our own things. Maybe John is smarter after all, he figured out who he was real early and never looked back. I’m the one who’s been hopping from one side of the fence to another trying to figure it out.”

Dom plowed through the sprouting field of Brian’s nascent martyrdom. “Yeah, we’ve been there and done the last part. That’s been settled. Now, we’re talking about how your distant twin brother finds you half a world away without so much as a phone call and these rules you’ve got for how you live your lives.”

Brian huffed out a conciliatory laugh. “You heard the rules bit, huh? Well, you’ve got a code and we’ve got rules that helped us get through…everything growing up. John’s wrong; we know how to share. We’re twins, Dom. We look alike but we’re not the same person. So the rules help us from making things complicated for each other. I wanted to be a cop and John wanted to be—”

“Everything else that’s the opposite.”

Brian agreed in a curt nod. “Our mom co-signed the idea when we were younger, cuz it kept us out of trouble somehow and we unfairly gave her too much shit to deal with, so we kept on after she died. Then John went to live with our Uncle Jack and that was that. The only time we ever meet up is when we’d randomly decide to visit Uncle Jack’s retirement home on the same day; otherwise, we lie low.”

“That’s sad, Brian. He’s your brother.”

“Yeah, he is. We’re not all lucky to be like you and Mia. You should know better than most that family has an expansive definition.”

Then Brian was folded easily into the hug that Dom drew him into and looped his arms around Dom’s wide shoulders until the air between them was suffocated. “You’re family,” Dominic assured in a tremulous rumble. “You’ll always have me…and the rest of us.”

“Same goes for you, Dom.”

“We still have to _really_ talk.” Dom released Brian reluctantly to resume leaning on the Charger at his back. They couldn’t fully commit to this new life as partners in crime or otherwise without full disclosure.

“After we’re done, we will.” Brian promised.

You’re sure they would figure it out one day how they wanted to define the boundaries of family between each other. Until then, you decided to make good on an earlier promise. Plenty of time remained for you to learn from your previous mistakes; for now, it was best to learn from the intel you’d gathered and start to craft a new story of your own.

Back at the main workbench, you handed Han the beer and asked, “How do you feel about guns?”

He accepted the bottle. “They’re useful.” He replied honestly, then clicked his bottle against yours.

“What about traveling the world? How do you feel about that?”

“That’s something I do well.”

“Yes?”

“Definitely, let me tell you about what Dom and I did in the Dominican Republic.”

You listened to Han eagerly and imagined the possibility of traveling together. Suddenly, you really wanted his thoughts on Tokyo.The question could for another day.

You would plan and research as you had done always; this new family of yours was the challenge you needed. Protecting them would be the challenge you wanted.

 


End file.
